


Moving Target

by starlightpeddler



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Albus just wants to get engaged but Scorpius won't sit still, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Engagement, Fluff, M/M, Scorbus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8853031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightpeddler/pseuds/starlightpeddler
Summary: Albus is determined to propose to Scorpius Malfoy – if he doesn’t murder him first.





	

“Oh! Sorry – we’re decorating cookies now!”

Scorpius responds to the tug of Leo, Victoire and Teddy’s seven-year-old son, and allows himself to be dragged away from Albus, laughing, for the third time that day.

Albus should be grateful. His boyfriend is loved by his family and is very popular with all the children, and under normal circumstances he’d be happy to assist in the cookie-decorating and tree-trimming that comes with a Christmas Eve at The Burrow. For the last three years he’s let Scorpius enthusiastically pull him into all the family holiday traditions he wouldn’t have been able to enjoy with Draco at the barren Malfoy Manor. But this year… well, this year Albus has a bit more on his mind.

He watches from the edge of the room, removed from the rest of his family, as Scorpius picks up Lucas, Leo’s younger brother, and sets him on the counter next to the cookie supplies Grandma Molly has set out for them. Scorpius is happy, grinning ear-to-ear as the children set to work, drawing lines on snowflakes and trees that Teddy and Scorpius have to charm straight.

Albus watches Scorpius laugh; his cheeks still pink from building snowmen outside with Rose, whose deep tan from her post-graduation trip abroad is a stark contrast with the snow, and Lily, who is still nursing a Quidditch injury from the last match of the term. He’s so happy – glowing and grateful to be here with the Potters and Weasleys who have accepted him – and Albus can’t look away. Scorpius’ love for the holidays is infectious and it’s even gotten to Albus, who never saw much charm in being packed into The Burrow with his whole family so that they could wake up together on Christmas Day. 

“That looks great!” Scorpius praises Leo with such enthusiasm that Grandma Molly laughs, tucking her grey hair back into its messy bun. She, possibly more than anyone else, goes out of her way to ensure Scorpius has good holidays.

Albus watches contently for what feels like ages, smiling and shaking his head when Scorpius beckons him over to participate. When all of the cookies have been iced and charmed with glowing sprinkles, he takes one from Lukas and ruffles his (currently) blue hair. 

“The kids love you,” Albus says as Scorpius joins him, leaning against a wall removed from the chaos of the living room. “Probably because you’re basically still one of them.”

Scorpius scoffs, knocking Albus’ shoulder playfully, already on his third cookie.

“They’re fun,” Scorpius says, watching Ginny, Harry, and Ron engage the children in a game of ‘what could this present be?’ They shake boxes underneath the tree and laugh at the kids’ outlandish suggestions.

It’s a moment of mid-afternoon peace before the hustle of preparing dinner begins, and Albus brushes some crumbs from Scorpius’ sweater.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Albus says, just as he has for the last four Christmases.

“I am too,” Scorpius agrees, beaming down at him. “It’s weird not being at Hogwarts anymore. I miss you during the week.”

Albus nods solemnly, hand tucked safely in his pocket where he slowly feels over the platinum band he’s been carrying around all day.

“Sometimes I’m not sure living at home for the first year was the right choice,” Albus says, testing the waters.

“It seemed like a good idea in June,” Scorpius reminds him, slipping an arm around Albus’ waist and pulling him to his side. Albus tucks his face against Scorpius’ shoulder.

“It doesn’t seem like a good idea when I don’t see you for two days straight,” Albus mutters, then looks up at Scorpius. “Is that sad?”

“If it is, then we’re both sad,” Scorpius chuckles, and Albus feels over the knit of his newest Weasley sweater. Grandma Molly made them matching green-and-grey ones this year, and even though it’s cheesy, Albus loves it.

In his Weasley sweater, Scorpius already looks and smells like a member of Albus’ family. Maybe, Albus thinks, this is the right moment -

A discordant sound rings from upstairs and the children in the room squeal with excitement – Scorpius included. Hugo, it seems, has decided it’s time.

Scorpius’ face brightens and Albus sighs, releasing him.

“It’s time for carols!”

Without a glance back, Scorpius is up the stairs where the Weasleys’ old piano sits, ready for its once-a-year use.

*

After carols, it’s helping the children hang their homemade Christmas paper chain around the living room, and charming it to glow. Then, Scorpius insists upon helping Grandpa Arthur set up the temporary pavilion outside where dinner will be served, so they can continue their conversation on muggle cell phones.

“Those heating charms are difficult to get right,” Scorpius says as he comes inside again, shaking the snow from his platinum hair. “But they should hold through dinner.”

“I’m sure my parents can help,” Albus says quickly, brushing some snow from the ‘S’ on his sweater. “I just helped set up all the food, so maybe we could-”

“Oh, I promised your gran I’d help her move the ham!” Scorpius says, and he laughs. “Hey, it nearly rhymes.”

Albus rolls his eyes. “But Scorp, I-”

“I’ll be right back!” Scorpius says, leaning in to kiss Albus’ temple quickly before bounding off into the kitchen again and striking up an animated conversation with Grandma Molly.

Albus sighs and hangs his head. It’s not that he had a plan – it’s nearly impossible to plan things around the bundle of energy that is Scorpius Malfoy – but this certainly isn’t going the way he’d imagined.

“Is everything okay, Albus?”

Albus looks over his shoulder to see his mother sipping a glass of wine. He’s barely talked to her today. He’s been so preoccupied with finding the perfect moment that he’s forgotten to spend time with his parents and siblings.

“Yeah,” Albus says quickly. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

Ginny looks at him knowingly. Harry’s easier to fool, but Ginny has always been hyper-aware of her children’s moods and temperaments – especially Albus, who was never good at translating what he felt into words.

“Is something going on with you and Scorpius?”

Albus sighs and sinks onto the arm of a nearby recliner. He hasn’t told anyone. He feels like this should be between just himself and Scorpius, which he knows is stupid since he decided to do this on Christmas Eve – Scorpius’ favourite holiday – when they’re smothered by Albus’ family.

 _Why haven’t I wanted to tell anyone?_ Albus asks himself. He’s been mulling it over for more than a month. While it’s not exactly a small decision, it’s a natural one. His relationship with Scorpius is the only thing that’s always made sense to him, and he can’t imagine his life any other way.

So why doesn’t he want to talk about it?

“I’m afraid he’ll say no,” Albus mutters. Ginny frowns and sets her glass aside – a clear sign that she’s taking this seriously.

“Who will say ‘no’ to what?” Ginny asks, placing her hands on her son’s shoulders. Albus doesn’t realise he’s still a bit cold until he feels the warmth of her palms through his sweater.

Albus opens his mouth to tell her his intention, but no words come out.

He tries again, and nothing happens.

“Albus? Sweetheart, are you okay?”

He sighs and reaches into his pocket, scolding himself.

_You’re a grown man. What the hell is wrong with you?_

Ginny looks down at his hand where the simple platinum band rests in Albus’ palm.

“Oh, Al,” she coos. Albus looks up at his mother, hoping she’ll have some answers. “You’re afraid he’ll say no?”

Albus swallows and nods, tucking the ring away before anyone else can see. It feels inordinately heavy in his pocket.

“And he won’t sit still long enough for me to propose,” Albus complains. It’s easier to say now that she knows.

“How on earth can you think he’ll say no?” Ginny asks. There’s a hint of amusement in her voice and it cuts through him. Albus looks down at his feet, knocking his toes and heels together in a nervous rhythm.

“Albus, look at me,” Ginny says, stepping closer so she can talk to her son quietly. She’s always been able to see when Albus didn’t want to speak to his entire family. Maybe that’s why he always got along with her better.

Albus looks up at her and she smiles, squeezing his shoulder.

“Merlin, you’re so much like your father.”

“Yes, I know. The eyes-” Albus starts, exasperated.

“No, no. Not that,” Ginny laughs. “I know you’ve heard the story about how he asked me to marry him.”

“Flying out to the countryside?”

It’s not a bad idea. Flying _anywhere_ seems preferable right now.

“Yes. It was very sweet. But what I didn’t know until a week later was that your Uncle Ron spent the entire night before watching him panic.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Ginny says. “And it’s not like he didn’t know I was going to say yes. I think it was fairly obvious.”

Albus laughs in spite of himself. Tales of Ginny’s childhood crush on Harry are legend, though he’s not sure how much of it has been exaggerated.

“Scorpius loves you,” Ginny reminds him, and even though Albus has never doubted that, it’s good to hear.

“Should I wait? Maybe it’s not today…”

“Not if you’re going to keep making that face,” Ginny says, handing him her glass of wine. He takes a grateful sip. “You look like you’re in pain. Besides, isn’t Christmas his favorite holiday?”

Albus looks over his shoulder to see Scorpius gleefully helping Harry and Grandma Molly move the entirety of the Christmas dinner outside.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Albus says and jumps a bit in surprise when his mother kisses his cheek and ruffles his hair.

“Of course I am.”

*

Dinner is the loud and boisterous affair it always is, with Grandpa Arthur chattering about the newest muggle technology, Harry and Ron debating the finer points of the ongoing Quidditch season, and Ginny and Hermione discussing Rose’s future.

“You’d have an excellent career at the Ministry,” Hermione says. Based on the way Rose rolls her eyes, Albus is certain it’s for the millionth time.

“You could also be an excellent pro-Quidditch player,” Ginny counters with a mischievous grin. “Far more glamorous. And they usually snag the most handsome husbands, too.”

Albus sees Harry catch her eye and wink. It’s gross, encouraging, and adorable at the same time.

Most of the food has long since been eaten, and Albus looks at all of his family gathered around the table. They’re all so happy talking to one another that Albus is certain no one will notice if he disappears for just a bit.

“Hey, Scorp?”

Scorpius doesn’t hear him over the laughter and excited conversation, and continues talking to Lily over the remnants of the ham and potatoes. Albus pinches his thigh under the table to get his attention.

“Ow!” Scorpius yelps, but smiles at him anyway. Albus doesn’t think he’s stopped smiling since he arrived this morning, and wonders vaguely if his face is starting to hurt.

“Hey, can we get out of here for a bit?”

“What? Why?”

“Just come with me. A short walk, I promise.”

Scorpius glances down he table then back at Albus’ eager eyes and nods. His reluctance is less than encouraging, but Albus shakes it off as they slip through the folds of the pavilion and onto the vast lawn that surrounds The Burrow. A few inches of snow crunch beneath their feet as they stroll off, and Albus hears the distinct sound of his cousins laughing together.

“It’s really clear out,” Scorpius observes, looking up. There isn’t a cloud to speak of, and there’s a bit of light left on the horizon, giving  the sky a gentle, dark gradient dusted with barely-visible stars.

They walk down a stray path, and Scorpius pulls Albus’ hand from the pocket of his coat to hold in his own. For Albus, who has spent the whole day anxious and worried, it’s a lifeline.

“Why did you want to get outside?”

“Well, I’ve been trying to talk to you all day. You’re a moving target,” Albus says with just a hint of bitterness.

“Oh, sorry,” Scorpius mutters, his cheeks flushing pink – an easy feat since he’s so pale. “There was just a lot going on and I wanted to help.”

“I’m not mad,” Albus realizes. “I was getting pulled around too. I just… well, I missed you. And I know how much you love Christmas Eve.”

“Oh, I do,” Scorpius says. “I mean, I really loved it as a kid, but ever since Mum died…”

Scorpius looks down at his shoes the way he always does when he brings up his mother without planning to. Albus holds his hand tighter and stops walking, tugging his boyfriend to a halt.

“I like spending holidays with Dad and all, but the best ones are the ones I spend with you. But then again, those are the best days _in general_ -”

Albus wrinkles his nose and rests his arms on Scorpius’ shoulders. It’s difficult to keep up with Scorpius when he says these things because he’s never been very good at it. Just this once, he needs to summon every bit of Gryffindor courage his parents bestowed upon him and choke out what he wants to say before it chokes him instead.

“I meant it,” Albus begins, “when I said that I’m glad you’re here. You’ve always fit with my family so well-”

“I really like them. I hope they like me. I never had much in the way of family, so – why are you looking at me like that?”

Albus wasn’t aware he was looking at him in _any_ particular way. He’s so wrapped up in Scorpius happily rambling on the sentiment that Albus has given him something so important that he hadn’t noticed the warm smile creeping in on his face.

“I can’t…” Albus trails off and looks away for a second, scanning the snow as though it’s hiding his words. He’s aware that Scorpius is watching him closely, and he hopes it’s dark enough now that he can’t see how red Albus’ ears have become. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not a huge fan of us being apart.”

“Noted from the three owls a day. Go on.”

“Well, I’ve realized that I don’t want us to be apart. In fact – I can’t even imagine my life without you in it.”

Albus looks up at him and it’s clear Scorpius has realized something is happening. His eyes are wide – the one Albus can see is, at least. His hair has fallen over one side. Dishevelled Scorpius Malfoy is a rare sight, and Albus isn’t going to complain.

“I love you. I’ve loved you for a very long time, and for me… well, I know that’s not going to change. So I wanted to ask you – because life is short a-and I don’t want to waste any more days without you…”

Albus reaches in his pocket. He’s been obsessing over this moment for so long and he _still_ doesn’t know what to do. He’s doubting all of his decisions – does he even _need_ a ring? Is he supposed to get down on one knee?

“Albus?”

It takes a moment, but Albus finally works the ring from the pocket of his jeans. His mind goes blank as he looks up at Scorpius, who’s staring down at his outstretched hand with wide eyes and his mouth in a surprised ‘o.’ Albus is acutely aware of the awkward scar on his palm from a potions-related incident and he remembers how Scorpius whipped up a healing salve and bandaged his hand for a week.

It’s the little memories like this one that sneak up on Albus when he least expects them and warm him, and he hopes it happens to Scorpius too. It’s a frequent occurrence now that he has more than seven years of friendship and love to draw on.

“Will you marry me?”

Scorpius looks at him, his face unreadable for a moment, and Albus is terrified that he’s going to say no. Reasons rush through his mind at an alarming rate – it’s too soon. He’s happy living back at the manor. Is this really what you want? I’m not sure – our families don’t get along so well-

It’s only a second, but it’s enough for Albus to nearly give himself both an ulcer and a heart attack.

But then Scorpius sighs, looking suddenly relieved, and his face breaks into the most exuberant grin of the day and it’s beautiful enough for Albus to know that everything’s going to be okay no matter what he says.

“Merlin, Al!” Scorpius cries inexplicably. He quickly takes Albus’ face in his hands and kisses him, hard, and Albus makes a small surprised noise, closing his hand around the ring so he doesn’t drop it.

It’s over before Albus can think to kiss him back, and then Scorpius is _laughing_ , and Albus hopes it’s not _at_ him – he definitely has an ulcer now – and before Albus can ask why, Scorpius bows his head against Albus’ shoulder, clutching him close and laughing harder.

“I was in absolute agony over whether or not to ask you on your birthday,” Scorpius says. Albus stands dumbfounded for a minute before figuring it out.

“Wait, you were going to-”

“Yes!” Scorpius says, standing back just enough so that Albus can see his face. He’s smiling, and there’s a bit of wetness under his eyes. Finally Albus understands, and then he’s laughing too.

“I’ve been driving myself mad all day-”

“Is that why you looked nauseated?”

“Probably. And you wouldn’t sit still-”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t know-”

“Mum said I shouldn’t have worried-”

“She was right,” Scorpius says, raising his hand to Albus’ face. He wipes away a couple stray tears that Albus hadn’t even noticed away, and Albus isn’t bothered to look composed or confident anymore as he slides his hands into Scorpius’ coat and wraps his arms around his warm waist.

“I love you,” Scorpius says. “Of course I want to marry you. Tomorrow? We can do it tomorrow at the Ministry.”

Albus laughs with relief.

“I think your father would kill me if we denied him the pleasure of micromanaging his only child’s wedding.”

“What if it was my idea?” Scorpius counters.

Albus shakes his head. “Still my fault. The little Potter boy that led his only son astray.”

“He likes you.”

“Because I’m the Slytherin one.”

“It’s something,” Scorpius shrugs. Someone calls for them in the pavilion but Albus ignores them, choosing instead to bury his face in the exposed skin of Scorpius’ neck.

“So you’ll marry me?”

“I already said yes,” Scorpius says against Albus’ hair.

“I’m going to need to hear it a few times,” Albus admits. “Just to be sure.”

Scorpius sighs contentedly as they ignore another call from behind them. Albus holds him tighter as he stops thinking in words and sounds, slipping into ideas of _warm, lucky_ and _perfect._

They stay there for a few minutes longer, alternating kissing and smiling and humming with happiness until finally a voice breaks the quiet across the snow.

“DID YOU FINALLY DO IT, ALBUS?”

Ginny’s powerful voice rings across the snow, and Albus realizes that even from a distance, their exchange must have been somewhat obvious. He cringes and looks over Scorpius’ shoulder. In the distance, he can see both of his parents and an assortment of cousins standing outside the tent.

“Oh, damn,” Albus mutters as Scorpius releases him to see for himself. “I only told my mum, I swear. I know you don’t like big embarrassing-”

“YES, HE DID, MRS. POTTER. CAN I CALL YOU MUM NOW? _”_

Albus doesn’t hear her reply over the roar of cheers and clapping that erupt from his family and he hides his face in his hands. He hears Harry calling for champagne and Uncle George yelling for someone to get the fireworks from the attic.

“You just had to-”

“Yes,” Scorpius cuts him off. “I did. People need to know how lucky I am.”

He’s beaming and Albus kisses him once more for good measure before they’re captured by the Weasleys and Potters. Someone should send for Draco…

“Do you want the ring?” Albus asks finally. “I wasn’t sure… there aren’t rules…”

“Absolutely,” Scorpius says. “But I want to get you one too. That’s important.”

Albus agrees and tries to negotiate the ring onto Scorpius’ finger with his hand trembling slightly from released nerves and the cold.

Scorpius’ has a habit of whispering to himself when he’s emotional, so Albus isn’t surprised when he hears him murmur-

“This is perfect.”

“I didn’t screw up?”Albus asks. Alone in the cold isn’t exactly the most romantic idea he’s ever had, but then again, he’s not known for his romantic ideas.

“Merlin, no,” Scorpius says. “I can’t imagine a better Christmas.”

Albus smiles and takes his hand, vaguely aware of the cool metal brushing his fingertips – a small addition to one of his favorite, everyday gestures – and he realizes that this is a hand he’ll be holding the rest of his life.

“Me either,” Albus agrees as they start walking back up the path where his family is waiting for both of them.

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet was written for the [HPCC Advent Calendar.](http://hpcc-advent-calendar.tumblr.com/) It's just a piece of Christmas fluff not at all connected to my other work.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in in this work. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling.


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